


What It Takes

by RiskPig



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-01-01
Updated: 2012-11-21
Packaged: 2017-11-19 04:57:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/569356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RiskPig/pseuds/RiskPig
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Regina had her happily ever after taken away. She meets a man that sets her on the path to take it all back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Please

**Author's Note:**

> I meant to complete this story before Regina and Rumple officially met on the show. Unfortunately, I failed. But I plan to finish, eventually.

Two hands weaved her hair through her new crown, skilled fingers never pulling on her silken strands.

She glared at her reflection. In the mirror, a beautiful young woman, attended by five women, was getting dressed for her wedding day. The morning will find her head crowned queen; the afternoon, claiming her right as mistress of this castle.

And then the evening…

_Please…_

Clenching her jaw, enraged by the sight of tears pooling in her eyes, Regina despaired for her future. Having her destiny ripped from her by a selfish child. Snow White wanted a step-mother, and by the gods she was going to get one.

A mother…

Regina released her jaw to swallow bile and more tears. She couldn’t do this. No _way_ could she do this. Queen? No. No no no. Never. How could anyone in her position be expected to stand there and promise eternal devotion to a man she did not love - or _know_? And promise to keep _that girl_ happy and loved for the rest of her life? To stare into those wide, pathetic, green eyes and not slap them out of her precious skull.

She waved away the handmaidens and rested her hand on her stomach. Pacing, trying to move comfortably in her wedding dress, she glanced once more at the vanity mirror.

The reflection continued to disgust her. The sunrise casted the room a soft, rosy glow, flaunting her pale skin and ruby lips. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, almost… twinkling.

Regina threw her hair brush at the gilded bride, breaking the mirror.

_Please._

The handmaidens quickly rushed back to her side. She jerked away from their attempts to inspect her.

“Your fussing is unnecessary and _unwanted_ ,” she snapped. “I am perfectly alright. Merely wedding jitters.”

The women recoiled for a moment before hesitantly returning to their task. Regina waved them away once more, this time demanding to be left alone.

She maintained the facade of haughty royalty until the last servant left the room and closed the door.

Alone at last, she wept.

_Please._

“Does your beloved fiance’ know, dearie?”

Regina sobbed, choking on her surprise. A man… More possibly, a demon, crouched on her balcony. Frantic, she snatched a shard from the mirror and held it before herself, like a dagger.

“What do you want?” she snarled, the illusion of bravery shattered by her sniffling and trembling chin.

“Oh, you poor child.” The demon leaped from her balcony to her vanity, gleefully observing the broken glass. “If I really wanted to hurt you, it would take more than that to stop me.”

Clearing her throat, Regina regained her composure, but still held on to her weapon. “Then what _do_ you want?”

Her intruder tutted, pointing a scaly finger at her. He meandered around her, and she spun to keep facing him. Watching him take a turn about the room, she slowly stepped back, hoping to reach her bell-pull before he could attack. Her eyes stayed on him, ready to bolt, should he catch her movements.

“Fair is fair, dearie. I’ll answer you if you answer me first.”

Her fingers found the cord. “What is your question?”

“Does your fiance’ know?”

“Know what?” She gripped tightly.

“That you are with child?”

She pulled. And the cord snapped off, preventing any summons for help. The demon laughed and spun towards her, clapping his hands like a manic child.

“False hope is hysterical, isn’t it?” You should be wary of mirrors, dearie.” He waved a claw at the small wall mirror just past his shoulder - that he previously faced. It offered a clear view of her standing by the chamber door, eyes wide from fear and surprise.

“Reflection is a strong and simple tool. Do well to remember that.”

Knowing she could not force him to leave, Regina sat at her vanity, allowing the shard and bell-pull cord to fall from her hands. Strongly tempted to return to her weeping, Regina bowed her head and wished to be left alone.

And then she remembered his question.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Mirrors. They’re the shiny things you hang on the wall.”

“Stop it!” Despair forgotten, all her focus centered on the demon. “Your question! What did you mean by it?”

The demon tittered. “Curiosity, dearie. To learn how to help you.”

A scoff. “Help me?”

“Yes.” He crawled on to her bed, delighted in how it bounced. “Someone says ‘please’ enough times, they’re going to receive help eventually.”

_Please…_

Regina blinked a few times, and returned her hands to her stomach, seeking solace through the life within her.

“So I ask once more: Does His Majesty know you are with someone else’s child?”

The despair creeped back into her heart. This creature knew her secret, she no longer needed to keep the pain at bay - but when she spoke, no more tears feel. The words poured from her, cold and brittle. Eyes downcast, she finally told someone the truth.

“No one knows. No one can ever know. And I’m frightened. The King would never accept my baby. I don’t know what to do - I can’t be queen - I hate the princess - my life is over because of her - but I’m supposed to be her mother…”

Her words started running together, and stopped making sense.

With a grin and a flourish in his arm, the demon produced a tea biscuit.

“An expectant mother should keep up her strength.”

Baffled, Regina accepted the treat. “Why do you want to help me?”

He shrugged. “My magic recognizes a desperate soul. And I’m willing to help people find their happy endings.”

Nibbling on the biscuit, Regina contemplated on her options. Accept his offer, or tell him off, and face her bleak future?

“Would you take me away from here? Take me somewhere far, far away? And guarantee no one will come after my child? Or myself?

“I want happiness. Solitude. Just me, the babe, and an open field to ride to my heart’s content.”

He bowed. “You have my word.

“For a price.”

Of course. Regina had learned no one was capable of charity without ulterior motive.

“I have nothing to give you.”

A hand waved off her protest. “I need nothing of material, dearie. I want to make a deal.”

“What deal?” Desperation brought her to the verge of shouting.

“If you can correctly answer _one_ question by three days end, I will give you everything you asked. You will have a small, self-sustaining estate. No one will know who you are, and your enemies will never know _where_ you are.

“But… if you fail, I will take your child, and give it to a dear couple in need of a bairn. It will be happy, healthy, and well-loved; _and you will never see the child again._ ”

Regina held her eyes tightly shut. The bile returning, she shook her head.

“Do we have a deal, dearie?”

She spoke, her mind clouded with fear and possibilities.

“Deal. What is your question?”

The demon _giggled._ And then approached her, a small jig in every step. He leaned forward, and whispered in her ear.

_“What is my name?”_


	2. His Name

The morning after he wedding, Regina woke in her new bed alone, with two letters on her bedside table.

The first was from the King.

Her husband.

_Regina,_   
_Regretfully, my duties to ~~my~~ our kingdom, calls me away from our honeymoon._   
_I promise to return as soon as possible, with gifts from our good neighbor King Midas._   
_In the meantime, you could occupy yourself with beloved Snow. The girls is still in need of riding lessons, and you have proven yourself a very capable teacher. I cannot think of a more perfect way for you two to bond._   
_Regards,_   
_His Royal Majesty King Leopold_

Regina started crumpling the paper from the corners as she read the letter.

“Regina.” Not “Dear Regina.” Not “Lady Regina.” Not “The Woman Whose Innocence I Stole Mere Hours Ago.” Just short, addressing, “Regina.”

_Returning with gifts - to make up for abandoning me. No doubt this will be a recurring theme throughout our marriage._

And he finished with an order to spend time with his daughter. Precious, angelic, _thoughtful_ Snow White.

She stamped on the wave of fantasies involving stampedes, landslides, and writing tear-stained letters conveying the news of a tragic riding accident.

No. Snow White was worth more than falling off a horse.

So much more.

Satisfied with her paper ball, Regina tossed it. The second letter, made with thicker paper, looked much more ornate, with gilded leaves, and a thick black wax seal.

She opened it. And then almost dropped it.

_Consider this Day One, dearie._   
_-Your friend_

_It wasn’t a dream._

Which meant she had no time to lose.  
  


  
  
Ensconced in a census dating back sixty years, Regina worked her way through the state secretary’s library. She rapidly checked off every new name on a seperate scroll.

_Robert… Carl… Lyle…_

She had to check all the kingdoms. A man like that could have either come from a faraway land - the better to hide his identity, or stayed close to keep an eye on his enemies.

Chances are he also changed his name. Every census needed checking. She could leave no stone unturned. The stakes were too high for carelessness.

Besides, if she couldn’t find _him_ , she will have every _type_ of name in the realm.

After completing a decade, Regina climbed a ladder to retrieve more books. Scanning the spines for dates, she felt a tug on her gown.

Wide, pathetic, green eyes.

“Snow White, darling,” Regina smiled. “You startled me. Why aren’t you at breakfast?”

“Why aren’t you, dear step-mother?”

_Nosy brat._

“None of your concern. Darling. But you,” Regina descended “are a growing young woman, and I ask that you never skip a meal.” She gently took hold of the little girl’s chin, the image of swiftly snapping her fragile neck flashing before her eyes.

“Understand?”

An oblivious smile. So warm. So bright.

So trusting.

“Yes. Thank you, step-mother.”

Having properly fulfilled her role for the day, she shipped the child off for a day of reading, arithmetic, and etiquette. Now, she could work to fight another day, completely unfettered.

“Good show, dearie. Once so innocent would never recognize hatred if it stared them in the face.”

“The demon returns,” she muttered.

“With your silver tongue, you’ll make queen for the ages.” Fingers steepled, he sashayed to her workspace. Pinching his fingers at the corners of the parchment, he peered over her work. “Ah. What do we have here? Is the new queen familiarizing herseld with her kingdom? Her first day, and she’s working so hard.” He lifted his eyes from the scroll, his gaze locking her in place. “Could this dark one be right about you?”

Regina challenged his stare. She allowed him to witness a moment of weakness yesterday. The last time that happened her mother killed her True Love. She could never be careless again. With the demon now in her life, knowing that beings like him could exist, she had to keep her guard up at all times.

“Or,” his attention returned to the list of names, “this busy bee is hoping to beat me.”

Regina kept silent, aiming to appear austere.

“I’ll kill some of the suspense.” With a snap, the list burned to nothing. Not a cinder remained.  “None of those names were correct, dearie.”

Yesterday, Regina would feel crestfallen. Today, she seethed.

“And a sixty-year-old census? If I were a more vain man, I’d feel insulted.

“Don’t fret, dearie. This day isn’t over. When you feel you have the answer, just call for me.”

Fighting to hide her disappointment, Regina’s cool voice belied sarcasm and condescension. “And how am I to call you, if I don’t know your name?”

The ridiculous imp stroked his chin, humming and giggling to himself. And then raised a finger high to the heavens.

“The same way you called me before, dearie. All you have to do is say… please!”

In a puff of purple smoke, he vanished, that high-pitched cackle ringing throughout the library.  
  


  
  
The second day passed with no progress.

_Nicholas, Gabriel, Gary…_

Regina skipped to forty years, and attempted more obvious names.

At his summons, he left quicker than he came.

“Dearie, I’m more than a mere ‘Jimmy.’”

The exotic names came next.

_Adolf, Sergei, Renard…_

“As fun as the name sounds, a man called ‘Durza’ would have a different line of work.”

_Francis, Malachy, Joseph - Steve!_

“No, no, no, and most definitely _not_. You’re fading fast, dearie.”

The second night blurred into the third morning. As instructed, Regina joined Snow White in a riding lesson. They led the palace ponies through their paces, Regina holding her step-daughter’s reins. Her mind raced through more names; names of every man she had ever known. The princess prattled on about her lessons.

“-of course everyone knows ogres are vicious. Did you know that we’d been fighting them for over two-hundred years? And back then, they were almost wiped out! Ogres would have been egg-stinct. That means gone forever.

“But then the Dark One disappeared, and we’ve had to deal with them on our own.”

_This dark one…_

“Snow White!”

Startling the horses, Regina quickly pulled the reins. She stroked their manes and encouraged Snow to do the same.

“Snow White. Who is the Dark One?”

“Oh, um… He was a sorcerer. They also called him the Spinner - because he spun straw into _gold_. They say his magic could do anything.”

Regina knew the odds were against her. The young woman’s skin paled, and her hands felt clammy from lack of sleep. Desperation kept her awake all night. Her hair, usually soft and sleek, was absently twisted in a frizzy, messy bun. And lastly, the sleep deprivation made it harder to hold back her rage.

“What else did they call him, dear?” Her hand gripped her step-daughter’s shoulder, her hold quickly tightening.

“Step - step-mother…”

“Snow White. Darling Snow White.” Both hands holding the princess’s face close to her own, Regina pleaded for what she wanted to know.

“The Reason The Sun Shines On Our Kingdom Snow White. What is the Dark One’s name?”

“Step-mother - Regina - you’re hurting me.”

Regina knew. She could feel it in the deepest depths of her soul. She _had him_. And she could have her life. She could have her _happily. Ever. After._

  
She just needed the damn girl to talk!

_“Tell me the Dark One’s name!”_   
  
  


  
  
“The sun has set. Your time is up. What do you have for me, dearie?”

Regina indulged in a soothing, celebratory glass of wine. She could prolong this moment - she had her whole life in front of her.

“I have one question. Should I pack, or will you provide everything I need?”

The demon… actually, she started to think of him as an imp - made himself comfortable on a chaise lounge, inviting her to join him.

Regina complied. No harm in letting her hair down. After this night, she would never see him again.

“Fair is still fair, dearie. My answer will depend… on your answer.”

She chuckled. And relished.

“I hope you have deep coffers. Because I want marble floors and twelve stables.

“ **Zoso**.”

She stood from the chaise, facing away from the imp. And waited for the purple smoke that would whisk her away to the life of her dreams.

And waited.

And still waited.

Where was the smoke?

Laughter. Shrill laughter at her back. It started small. Just chortling peals, blossoming into loud shrieks that could only occur through wild abandon.

The bile returned.

She slowly peered over her shoulder. The imp had fallen to the floor. Only one word could describe him: Jubilance.

“My child! My sweet - sweet child! I could never be more proud! This is truly remarkable!”

He managed to stand, wobbling towards her. Clapping a hand to her shoulder, the force shook the wine glass from her frozen hand, sending the flute crashing to the floor.

“No one had ever! Never, had anyone ever come so _close_.”  
The last word wasn’t accompanied by one of his giggles. It was said with calm, cruel satisfaction.

“You would have won, dearie, if I gave points for trying.” He whispered in her ear. Regina couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. She could feel the tears streaming down her face, but she didn’t sob, or whimper. She was suffocating. Her world fell apart. On top of her. Around her. In her.

In her. _Her baby._

  
“I do hate to see someone fail. Especially after a hard effort. But you’ve lost, dearie. And when you wake up, your womb will be barren, and you will carry on as queen of the realm. Consider yourself lucky. Many people have done worse for a chance like this.”

She felt him pull away, but her strength returned.

“For taking my child, will you offer me one small consolation?” She whispered so softly, she almost didn’t hear herself.

“I guess there’s no harm.”  
He started to dissolve in the purple smoke. “Name it, dearie.”

Regina finally looked at him. “What is your name?”

And he vanished. But a whisper crept along the walls.

_“Rumplestiltskin…”_


	3. Power

One year ago, Regina lost everything.

Her family. Her home. Her future.

 _Daniel._ She lost Daniel. And not too long after, she gave away her most precious tie to him. Now, all she had - all that remained of her past, was Daniel’s ring.

She found solace through Snow White. Regina kept that child on her toes. They shared bedtime stories every night. Regina tucked in the goose-down blankets, tapped the cute button nose, and wished her step-daughter sweet dreams. When morning came, the princess would find her oatmeal too dry. A heel snapped off during a trip down the stairs. Some days the royal wardrobe either shrunk or felt too itchy. Finally, when the little things started taking their toll, Regina swooped in and played the nurturer. Offered a reminder to stop running down the stairs. Even suggesting that a growing girl needed to mind her weight and hygiene.

Regina could barely hold back her smiles at the sight of tiny, pink - almost red, hands; raw from furious scrubbing.

But the small victories achieved  through messing with a child’s mind failed to make her happy.

She needed more.

———————————————————-

For their anniversary, the King gave Regina the best gift.

He left her alone.

Business frequently called her husband away. Ogres never slept, and therefore, neither did the King.

Which was why this night was essential to the people’s happiness. The entire kingdom would come to the palace to celebrate their king and queen. Their love story inspired soldiers to keep fighting, and for the virgin maidens at home to keep dreaming. Tonight, all would dance, feast, and forget that their world was falling apart.

_So lucky._

Regina sat at her vanity, brushing her hair. The woman in the mirror had changed. Last year, the vision was softer, quieter… weaker. All delicate sensibilities and fluttering eyelashes. A stupid girl filled with impossible dreams. Now, the illusion of innocence and love dissolved into a cold, elegant woman. Her eyes, dark and skeptical, bore through the mirror. The lines of her face and form hardened. Her beauty, already notable, was exemplary.

“I do hope you are not overdoing it. Too many brush strokes causes the ends to split.”

Trying to smile, but only managing a grimace, Regina looked to her visitor’s reflection.

“Good afternoon, Mother. Shouldn’t you be getting dressed for tonight?”

Lady Cora smiled and shook her head. “Shouldn’t you, my darling?”

Regina almost snapped back at her, but, as is appropriate for a queen, chose diplomacy instead. Gently replacing her brush for a crown, she turned away from the vanity to properly greet her mother. “I am already dressed, Mother. If you are looking to assist someone, there is a darling twelve-year-old that still needs to be told what to wear.”

Her mother sighed. “Sarcasm is unseemly. You will get worry lines. Now,” a clap “enough. You can’t wear this to a royal ball.”

Biting her cheek, Regina stood her ground. “My gown is perfectly suitable, Mother.”

“If one is having tea with a farmer’s wife.” Before Regina could argue, Cora waved her hand, changing Regina’s gown and hair. “Tonight, you are supposed to represent true love, hope,” she straightened her daughter’s neckline, brushing away imaginary wrinkles, “and steadfastness. Men are more willing to die in war if they are fighting for a beautiful woman.” Satisfied, she gave her daughter a small embrace, and left with parting advice. “I know this is hard for you, dear, but your people are first priority. The crown is a heavy responsibility, and you must respect that.”

As soon as she was gone, Regina threw a shoe and mussed her hair. Crown or not; grown _woman_ or not, some things would never change.

—————————————————————

The ball was a success. Nary a hitch.

Everything.

Was.

Perfect.

The people cooed and twittered over their princess, their queen forgotten after the initial introductions.

Sweethearts danced with soldiers. Proposals abounded. And everyone departed arm-in-arm with their True Loves.

At the end of it all, Regina wanted nothing more than to climb in to bed, and imbibe an entire bottle of ale, so she could sleep without dreaming.

But, as seemed her destiny, her hopes were disrupted by her least favorite person. Snow White ran in to her chambers, face buried in a stuffed bear, whining about nightmares. Once the chit flashed those wide, pathetic, green eyes, Regina knew she wouldn’t sleep well.

With Snow White in her bed, in guiltless sleep, Regina found herself back at her vanity, gazing at the woman in the mirror.

This woman had everything. Beauty. Wealth. Power.

 _Power._ Regina had been queen for a year, and she lacked _power._ She answered the King’s every summons, and yet he could come and go as he pleased. Snow White depended on her for _everything_ , and carried all the attention. And her mother… Her mother had her magic. With a flick of a wrist, she was forced to obey Lady Cora’s every whim. Regina was not a real queen, and she never would be. Not as long as she lacked power.

Damning the brat in her bed, Regina uncorked a bottle and took big gulps. Her life needed to change. Now. And this change needed to last forever.

——————————————————————

Retreating to her balcony, Regina nursed her bottle for warmth. The night felt cold, and there was a strong wind. She wore a thin nightgown, and her feet were bare. But the queen’s skin was moist with sweat, and she breathed heavily. Her hands shook, and her legs felt unsteady. To hold herself upright, Regina kept one hand on the balcony railing.

This was a terrible idea. She was drunk, exhausted, and depressed. In her right mind, this would _not_ happen.

Movement in the corner of her eye. Snow White rolled over, and kicked a pillow of the bed.

This was the greatest idea ever, and she wasn’t anywhere _near_ drunk!

“Rumplestiltskin.”

Another bracing sip of ale.

“Rumplestiltskin.”

Maybe this could have waited until morning? But she already said his name twice, and a good queen follows through in every commitment.

“Rumplestiltskin.”

Nothing happened, but she understood him now. That imp adored surprises, and he wasn’t going to get her this time. Regina raised her hand to take another sip, only to find the bottle missing.

“This brew is getting warm, dearie. I could bring us something stronger, if you wish.”

_Damn him._

“Well, well, well. Look at you. A timid, simpering bratling has blossomed into a bitter, deadened, harpy. Your mother must be so proud.”

Taking back the bottle, Regina downed the last of its contents. “And look at you. You’re still the disgusting, twisted, little imp that haunts my dreams.”

Rumplestiltskin whooped. “Well, at least I’ve got a woman thinking about me.”

“I must be the first.”

Rumplestiltskin giggled and danced in place. “Oh, this is a friendship bards sing about. Now that we’re caught up, how about we move on to why you called for me?”

Regina did not speak for a moment. She actually had not thought that part through. What could she ask him for? What did she need? Want?

“How out of it are you, dearie? Are you so weak, you can’t handle a bottle of - “

“Power!” Regina shouted. She poked him in the chest. Hard. The queen’s head spun. At his words, she started thinking about everything she hated in her life. The bowing, the coddling, the bitten tongues the constant “Yes” and “Of course” and “I only want your happiness” and having to answer to those wide, pathetic, green eyes every day and hold back the urge to claw them to shreds.

“I want power! Everyone has power but me, and it’s not fair, because I’m the Queen, damn it! Queen!” As she continued, Rumplestiltskin swiftly enchanted the door to let the princess sleep. Although this tirade was hilarious, no child needed to hear they were unwanted.

“So, yes, that’s what I want! Make them bow to me. Make them _all_ bow to me! This woman never wants to feel weak again. And you are going to do that for me, because I want it. No! I _ordered_ it!”

“Liquid courage indeed.” Rumplestitlskin materialized a small table and tea set. Taking advantage of her state, he ushered her to a chair and poured her a remedy. He had his fun, but he bartered with _desperate_ souls, not intoxicated ones.

With a clearer mind, her head turned away in shame, Regina pondered her request, trying to ignore her bane staring at her.

“Power.” She cleared her throat. “I have been weak all my life, and I want to make people do what I want from now on.”

“That’s a good start. What would you have me do? Cast a spell on the realm to make them obey you? Send away your step-daughter forever? Make the king fall due to a tragic accident? _Or_ ,” he wagged a finger, “ _make your mother fear you_?”

Regina thought, It all sounded to good to be true.

“No.”

The imp quirked a brow.

“No. I want to do all that myself. I want you to teach me magic.”


	4. Reflection

As the months passed, Regina swiftly learned the ins and outs of ruling the kingdom.

Most especially, how to avoid one’s responsibilities.

“You are getting to old for my smothering, love,” she told her step-daughter. “It’s time for you to start growing up. Be with girls your own age.”

Snow White held Regina’s hand through the carriage window. Those wide, pathetic green eyes in full force, she pleaded, “Please don’t send me way, step-mother! I promise! I-I’ll be good! I will be the best lady!” Wiping away fat tears with the back of her hand, Regina calmed the chit, and said the one thing that would halt further argument.

“I know, dear, I know. But your father agrees with me.”

At that, Snow White’s sobs reduced to hiccups, and she calmly waved goodbye as the carriage pulled away from the palace.

A footman approached with a tea tray. Pleased with herself, Regina poured a cup, and took a nice, long draft. After swallowing, she felt… odd. Not wrong, just odd. More rejuvenated. Her hands tingled. The world seemed brighter. A weight lifted from her shoulders.

“Does His Majesty know you exported his only child to a boarding school?” asked the footman.

Regina raised her hand to berate him for his impertinence. An unseen force froze her, holding her arm in place. Her teacup fell, but without breaking, or spilling.

Uniform replaced by a leather coat, Rumplestiltskin’s visage returned to its constant, scaly vivaciousness.

“Cat have your tongue, dearie?”

His magic still holding her prisoner, Regina barely managed a growl. It escaped as a gargle.

“Apologies. Let’s have a proper chat.”

With a sharp snap of his fingers, they transported to her chambers, the tea set now resting at her vanity. She found herself brushing her hair, admiring the woman in the mirror. She spotted the imp reposing on her bed.

“Shoes off.” Tucking away stray hairs, she made her way to the imp, swatting at his feet.

“You’re an intriguing woman, Your Majesty. As you well know.”

“Please. What would you know about me?”

“I know that you’re incredibly vain.” He pointed to the vanity. “Before bringing us here, I cast a wee spell.” Her eyes flashed. “Not to worry; it’s perfectly harmless. I had magic place us where we’re most comfortable. In my case,” he grandly gestured to the bed, “I have considered stealing your four-poster. But in yours…” Rumplestiltskin rifled through her bedside table drawer. He pulled out a hand mirror and admired his reflection, twirling his mangled locks. “You are happiest when facing yourself.”

Snatching away the mirror, Regina huffed and stared down the imp. “May we get on with this?”

“Of course.” Nodding in assent, Rumplestiltskin poofed from the bed to the vanity. Waving Regina over, he spoke to the woman in the mirror.

“Magic is everywhere. In water, trees, anything with _life_. It is a natural occurrence, bleeding through everything. However, once harnessed, it can be imbued anywhere. A ring, a mirror, even _people._ ” He offered another tea cup. “Tell me, how old did you feel once sampling my special blend?”

Instead of drinking, Regina studied the cup’s contents.

“Did you feel… _powerful_? That is not just tea, dearie. I have added a potion.”

Blowing on the tea, to bring it to a cool, she eyed him with suspicion. “What kind of potion?”

“One that makes you more susceptible to magic.”

She finished it all in one swallow.

“Magic, as I said, is a natural occurrence. Once inside you, it becomes part of who you are. Your power, and how you can wield it, depends entirely on _you._

“You have an affinity for mirrors. That’s where we will start.

“You’re vain. Your beauty is the only power you could control. Your fascination and obsession with yourself is a weakness and strength. _This_ will be your outlet. Literally, your _vanity_ will channel your magic.”

Her focus shifted to the woman in the mirror. This woman always looked more beautiful. More courageous, and in control. This woman never had to deal with the trials existing beyond the glass. Nary a night passed that she did not dream of crossing into another world and _be_ this woman.

And with Rumplestiltskin’s help, she _will_ be.

“Reflection,” he said. “is a strong and simple tool. Your subconscious chose well. The future, dreams, or your enemy’s drawing room can be just a glance away, with the right spell. But, to learn, you will have to devote yourself to the craft. To view others, and witness deep, inner secrets, you must offer everything about yourself in return. Magic always comes with a price.

“To make sure I don’t waste any time, I must know, _how far are you willing to go?_ ”

The woman in the mirror smiled. She raised her head proudly and Regina hungered for that confidence.

“As far as it takes.”


	5. The Ring

_“Magic needs a source.” Rumplestiltskin clutched a dagger at his side. “Much like water. It can be used to grow crops, power mills, and revive those at death’s door. But, it has to be controlled, or anything can go awry. Floods, crumbling monuments, and careless victims drowning in its might.”_

Regina caressed Daniel’s ring with her thumb. Over every bump and ridge, memories coursed through her mind and heart. Soft, warm kisses under their tree; their lips sharing secrets and desires. Fingers entwining, each digit bearing a promise. They rode their horses side-by-side. He gave her the courage to guide her horse over the hurdles. She would run to him, in tears, seeking comfort in his arms, his love a balm to her pain. She saw everything now, in but a moment, just as she did when she watched Daniel’s heart ripped out of his chest…

Regina clenched her hand into a fist, the ring digging in her palm.

_“You must give your soul. Something can never come from nothing, dearie. And that is the price for getting everything you want._

_“One may start small. A bauble, perhaps. But nothing trifle. This object **must** be worth your life, or this exercise is pointless. Wait until you are alone, and extinguish all light; put out the candles, and shut the drapes.”_

It was well past midnight. Snow had her bedtime story, and then the King made use of his wife. Given leave, before His Royal Majesty dozed off, Regina retreated to her chambers. In her dark isolation, as instructed, she forced herself to ponder over her life and relive every beautiful and tragic moment, willing the ring to absorb everything. Her hands clasped together, she whispered the words Rumplestilskin taught her.

“I loved Daniel. He was everything True Love was meant to be. I devote all that is left of my heart… to vengeance, for his death. As long as I have his love, I must have power. _Tóg dom a chur anseo. Tóg dom anois. Tóg go léir go bhfuil mé, go deo. Tóg dom a chur anseo. Tóg dom anois. Tóg go léir go bhfuil mé, go deo. Tóg dom a chur anseo. Tóg dom anois. Tóg go léir go bhfuil mé, go deo…”_

Rumplestiltskin’s concoction must have been working. A warm glow flowed from her heart to her fingertips. The ring glowed, and started growing hot. To the point that she had to grit her teeth to hold on, the heat burning through her hand. Determined, she rushed through her spell.

 _“_ An costas a bheidh i mbiotáille i cur amú náire  
An bhfuil lust i ngníomh, agus, till gníomhaíochta, lust  
An bhfuil perjured, marfach, ré, atá lán de mhilleán,  
  Savage, mhór, drochbhéasach, éadrócaireach, ní chun muinín;  
Taitneamh as nach luaithe ach despised díreach;  
Chúis Past seilg, agus ní túisce a bhí,  
Chúis Past fuath, mar bhaoite shlogtar,  
Ar na críche atá leagtha a dhéanamh ar an nglacadóir dÚsachtach:  
Mad sa tóir, agus i seilbh amhlaidh;  
  Dá mbeadh, tar éis, agus i rompu a bheith acu, mhór;  
A bliss i cruthúnas-agus, bhí ochón, an-;  
Roimhe sin, áthas beartaithe; taobh thiar de, a aisling,  
Gach seo domhan a fhios go maith; go fóill a fhios ag aon cheann go maith  
Chun shun an spéir go fir thoradh ar seo ifreann.”

At her last breath, everything stopped. The warmth vanished. The power leeched from her hands, and suddenly her body felt cold, fatigued. Weak, Regina struggled to gain footing, and sought consultation with the woman in the mirror.

The room was spinning, but her vanity called to her, like a beacon, guiding her, and kept her standing.

_Why didn’t it work?_

The woman in the mirror, of course, offered no answers. Only taunts, hopes for a better life dangling beyond a veil of glass.

_It should have worked. It felt like it was working._

“I wanted Daniel back.” Shivering, Regina rubbed her arms, unaware that mist followed her breath. “I wanted to   
make everyone pay for taking him away.” Her fingers touched the mirror, the reflection starting to frost and fracture. “I have nothing, but you, the world could be yours. Everything in _this_ world hurts and I want it to be mine and to be _right_.”

The other hand rested on the mirror. She leaned forward, the other woman’s eyes pulling her in.

“I want to be you. And I will be. Whatever it takes.”

The other woman smiled.

Shocked, Regina tried to pull back. But the other woman had their fingers entwined. The heat returned to her arms, more intensely and spreading through her whole body, despite a strong wind that forced its way through her balcony doors. Daniel’s ring was on her finger now. And it burned to a red, furious ember. She tried to cry out from the pain, but the roar from the wind drowned out all noise. She tried to pull away again, but the hands holding her tightened.

**“You’re pathetic.”**

Regina closed her eyes. She did not have to look to know it was the woman in the mirror.

**“You have let everyone walk over you, because you are a silly girl that gives up too easily. This is your chance to change everything. If you stop now, you will never take your happiness.”**

She started to cry.

**“Take it, Regina. Take it all. Everyone has gotten in your way. Don’t add yourself to that list.”**

With a nod, she squeezed her hands, and hoped this would be over soon.

—————————————————————————————

_The expense of spirit in a waste of shame, is lust in action…_

“Well, I think you might have overdone it, dearie.”

Regina woke to find herself on the floor, the sunlight peeking through her window shutters hurting her eyes, and _that voice_ piercing her skull, adding to her headache.

“But that’s pretty good. The more you give, the stronger you get back.”

_And, till action, lust is perjured. Murderous, bloody, full of blame._

Daniel’s ring pulsed on her finger. Observing it, Regina felt the pulse connect with her heartbeat. Hopeful, she looked to the imp.

“Did it… did it work?”

Giggling, Rumplestiltskin proceed to open every window, allowing the morning glare to intensify her ill mood.

“You tell me.”

“Ugh!” Regina grunted in disgust, ungracefully standing up, and gathering her morning robe over her shoulders. “One day, someone is going to get tired of your games, and then you will learn one important lesson.”

“Which is?”

“Do not interfere with a lady’s beauty sleep!”

At her shout, all her windows shuttered closed.

Releasing a small gasp, she turned to the imp. He shrugged, his denial clear. The ring pulsed once more. Ignoring her unwelcome company, she rushed to her vanity.

The woman in the mirror seemed different today. Instead of flaunting everything Regina wished she could be, the woman smiled. Out of respect. And admiration.

Regina smiled back.

_All this the world well knows; yet none knows well, to shun the heaven that leads men to this hell._


End file.
